


Losing to You

by RightNow2808



Category: Tennis RPF
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-14
Updated: 2018-09-14
Packaged: 2019-07-12 06:08:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15989249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RightNow2808/pseuds/RightNow2808
Summary: Stefanos hates losing to Rafa. Because he knows he could win if he wanted. Because he knows the only reason for losing is Rafael Nadal being unbelievably hot on the other side of the net. Because he knows he loves this Spaniard and that he could never be his.





	Losing to You

**Author's Note:**

> You have no idea how much I adore Stefanos. And then they hugged at the net and Rafa so tenderly held him across the waist and his smile when the crowd sang to Stefanos for his birthday. And Rafa's speech - congratulating Stefanos, wishing him a happy birthday. I dunno, I just had to give them a chance together.  
> Enjoy :)  
> Thank you.

Rafa knew he would withdraw from Cincinnati before even speaking with his team. The whole week on hard courts tired him out, especially with as little preparation as he’d had. The anxiety he’d been feeling for the whole week eased up. He was worried about his health, he couldn’t just simply destroy every thought about AO, about the quarterfinals. The pain still haunted him, even though it wasn’t present, but the memory was hard to push away. But now he could rest for a few days, ease up the mental pressure and clear his head.

Only, his rest didn’t include Stefanos Tsitsipas knocking on his suite door in the middle of the night, only hours after the trophy presentation. Rafa was lying on the couch, watching football and Titín went to open the door.

“Stefanos, hello!”

Rafa wasn’t sure he heard the name right, but the surprise in Titín’s voice made him look. Stefanos Tsitsipas was standing there in flesh and Rafa didn’t remember the last time he was so surprised. Stefanos looked shy and awkward and as if he didn’t know exactly what he was doing there.

“Hi, um, can I talk to Rafa? Sorry to bother you,” he rushed. Titín didn’t just let him in though, Rafa could basically feel the suspicion radiating from him, so he hurried to interfere, standing up and rushing to the door through the living room and the hall.

“For sure, Stefanos, come in,” he said and pushed Titín to the side. He could feel his glance on him, but he ignored him, motioning Stefanos to come in. “We talk in my room, come on.”

Francis came from the kitchen, probably to see who knocked this late at night, but when he saw Stefanos his already opened mouth closed, and he only raised an eyebrow instead. He didn’t even speak, he turned around and went back into the kitchen. When Rafa looked at Stefanos the boy was flushing a deep pink and Rafa smiled.

He took Stefanos to the end of the hall and into his room. It was untidied, his clothes lying everywhere, used and unused shoes were all around the floor and his rackets were scattered around, some strung, some still unstrung. It would take him more than an hour to pack all of this the next day, but now he was mostly ashamed that Stefanos saw it all. He closed the door, the soft click loud and somehow decisive.

“Sorry about mess,” he said and sat down on the chair. Stefanos looked around in wonder, his eyes wide.

“No worries, my room is worse,” he replied. Rafa smiled again, because he knew. Stefanos’ room still haunted his dreams sometimes. The memories from Barcelona were still fresh, every detail still so vivid in Rafa’s mind.

“Sit down on bed,” Rafa said after Stefanos wouldn’t do it himself, still awkwardly standing in the middle of the room. Stefanos did, looking at him with that same vulnerable and sincere look in his eyes. “So, what’s bothering you?”

“You,” Stefanos replied, painfully honest. Rafa raised his eyebrows, trying to cover up, how he nervously stiffened in his chair. The night with Stefanos was amazing, but he didn’t count on it being more than a one-time thing.

“Why?” Rafa asked, carefully.

“I don’t know,” Stefanos laughed, but it was tension-filled and forced, “you tell me. It’s like every time I play against you, I don’t remember anything I’ve learned at all.”

Rafa’s featured relaxed a bit. He stood up, made a few steps that separated him from the bed and sat down beside Stefanos. He tried to resist touching Stefanos’ hair, he really did, but those soft curls were simply irresistible.

Stefanos’ eyes closed at his touch and Rafa knew that this was dangerous territory, that he should keep himself as far away from Stefanos as he could, but he simply couldn’t. He was like a dessert kept away from Rafa for far too long.

“I think you just nervous,” Rafa replied, slipping his fingers through the soft curly locks. Stefanos pushed his head close into the touch and Rafa chuckled. “Playing such big stages and so young.”

“I was nervous, and I still beat Novak and Sascha and Kevin and Dominic, stop finding excuses.”

 “But was final,” Rafa replied softly.

“No, it was you. I see you and I become completely useless.” Stefanos gripped Rafa’s hand tightly, his grip strong and crushing. His eyes looked up into Rafa’s, desperate and sad. “Rafael, please. That night was… it was the best night of my life, I just-“

Rafa felt restless and uncomfortable once Stefanos stopped on a breath and looked completely horrified of what had come from his mouth. He was blushing deep red and Rafa didn’t know what to say to comfort him.

“Look,” Stefanos said after taking a long breath. “I know you probably only had me for sex, and that you think of me as a kid, but I know what I want, and I don’t even care how stupid this makes me look anymore, because I can’t fucking live with that inside of me.” He was slightly breathless after closing his mouth again, but he looked relieved, like a big weight was lifted off his shoulders. And Rafa was still at a loss of words.

He pulled his hand away from Stefanos’ and ran it through his hair. He let out a sigh, shrugged his shoulders, pinched at his nose and tried to think of a response. He wanted to give himself over to Stefanos’ sweet words, he really did, but he knew he had to stay away.

“Stefanos, I… I enjoy that night very much too, but I- look, I am too old for you, no? You so young, have everything yet in front of you. For this to become more, is impossible. You need someone young, who do the same things as you, not someone… well, not someone like me.”

He saw Stefanos roll his eyes and then the boy pressed even closer to him, until his warm thigh was pressing right against Rafa’s.

“You’re only twelve years older than me,” Stefanos said, making it clear Rafa will have to work harder to convince him.

“Twelve years is a lot,” Rafa tried quietly and not very decisively, but then Stefanos’ hand was on his thigh, scorching hot and strong and before Rafa could tell what was happening, he was leaning in, his lips dangerously close to Rafa’s, before pressing right against them.

Rafa’s breath shuddered and then his mind shut off. He kissed back instinctively, Stefanos’ lips just as soft as a few months ago, back in Barcelona. Only then he realised how much he’d missed this. As if a dam suddenly broke, his hand moved back to Stefanos’ hair, gripping it tightly. His other hand cradled Stefanos’ jaw, gripping his chin. His body moved without his permission, surging forward. He pushed Stefanos down on the bed and climbed on top of him, suddenly desperate for everything.

Stefanos was making noises under him and Rafa pulled away to breathe, but there was too little time. He got two desperate breaths in, before moving his lips to Stefanos’ neck, kissing and biting at the soft skin, while feeling the boy’s fingers tangle into his hair and pull until it was painful. Rafa moaned, partly in pleasure, partly in pain and bit harder into the skin of Stefanos’ neck, a sort of revenge.

Stefanos’ fingers moved from Rafa’s hair down his neck and back until they reached the hem of Rafa’s T-shirt. He pulled it up and Rafa parted from him for just long enough to get it over his head, before his chest pressed against Stefanos’ again, their lips back together.

Rafa was getting desperately hard in his shorts. He ground his hips against Stefanos and in response, the Greek parted his thighs, let Rafa in between them and greedily arched his back to get even closer to Rafa. It was only in that moment when Rafa realised what was happening. It took him every ounce of willpower he possessed to pull away and put some space in between them. He breathed in deeply, trying to get himself back under control. His heart was beating out of his chest and his cock was hurting with the need to get off.

“Stefanos, no, no, can’t,” he said, but in the moment he looked into Stefanos’ dark eyes, his res lips and flushed cheeks, his words didn’t matter one bit anymore. He leaned back in and they were kissing again, and Rafa forgot all the reasons why this was a bad idea. He pushed Stefan’s shirt up, until the boy got the message and took it off. Then Rafa could touch and his hands travelled all over Stefanos’ soft skin, his complexion pale where the shirt usually covered him during practice and his tan lines a lot more prominent than Rafa’s. His mouth was hot and wet and Rafa pushed closer to him, until they were touching from mouths to hips and desperately pushed against him.

Stefanos’ hands went from his hair down to the small of his back where he sunk his fingers into the tender muscles. Rafa moaned and arched his back, pushing forward and away all at once. When Stefanos’ hands dipped inside his shorts and boxers and grabbed his cock Rafa groaned, his lips slack against Stefanos’. The Greek’s touch didn’t last long, he pulled his hand away before Rafa could really enjoy it and he pulled away to questioningly glare at him.

Stefanos didn’t answer with words. He licked his already wet lips, his hair a curly mess spread around his head on the pillow like a halo and looking at an image like that Rafa didn’t find it hard at all that he couldn’t resist the boy. He was beautiful- that was the best word Rafa found to describe him. The Greek pushed Rafa away with a hand pressed to Rafa’s chest and the Spaniard went willingly, wondering if Stefanos had been the one to change his mind in the end.

Stefanos untangled his limbs from Rafa’s and quickly and not exactly gracefully took off his shorts and underwear, leaving himself completely bare and exposed under Rafa’s gaze. In Barcelona, Rafa let himself look and admire, but here, in Toronto, Rafa just wanted one thing. His heart was already beating out of his chest when Stefanos pulled him in again and he leaned down, kissing at Stefanos’ stomach, his chest, his hipbones and finally giving no more than a teasing lick to the leaking head of his cock.

“Turn around,” he murmured. Stefanos obeyed with a pretty moan and just a second later the view of his cock was exchanged with the view of his perky ass and Rafa couldn’t resist biting into the right one.

He left Stefanos lying on the bed, all spread out and begging while he went to get the lube and a condom from the suitcase, discarding his shorts and boxers on the way. He folded himself over Stefanos, pressed his cock into the crevice of his ass cheeks and pushed, because it felt good. This was another test of his self-control. He panted against Stefanon’s shoulder, kissed and bit at the soft skin, while trying to open the bottle of lube with one hand and get some on his fingers. He undoubtedly managed to ruin the sheets, but it didn’t seem important at all, not when he had Stefanos under him, all fucked out already and desperate for him.

He pushed one hand underneath Stefanon’s stomach and held him in place while he attacked the skin of his back with kisses and entered him with his fingers. Stefanos cried out, squirmed in his arms and Rafa shushed him with gentle kisses, while his fingers stretched the boy out quickly. There was no time to be lost. Rafa scissored his fingers, twisted them and pushed hard on Stefanos’ prostate, every sound that the Greek allowed to escape like music to his ears.

“Please, Rafa, please,” was what Stefanos was saying over and over again like a broken record, until Rafa finally realized what Stefanos wanted. He pulled his fingers away, hotly kissed the younger man’s jaw, before he reached for the lube and coated himself. This time Rafa didn’t wait for the second thoughts to come and to start overthinking. He pressed one hand to the small of Stefan’s back, and pushed in in one long thrust that made Stefanos yell out in a rush of too much.

Rafa couldn’t wait. He panted against Stefanos’ neck while he fucked him, deep, rough and quick, because he needed to get this heat inside of him out, the heat this boy under him had caused. He gave up all of the pent-up tension he’d been keeping in, tightly gripping Stefanos’ hips and pulled him up on all fours to get a better angle. He let himself drown in the sweet noises Stefanos’ was making, his moans, his grunts, his pleas for more. Yet what Rafa loved to hear the most was his name spoken in Stefanos’ soft Greek accent and that fuelled him up like nothing else.

They rocked against each other, panting, the sweat dripping down their bodies and dampening the sheets. They let the heat slowly but urgently spread through their whole bodies, getting closer and closer until it finally got too much. Rafa’s angle was precise, fucking Stefanos just right, the head of his cock dragging over his prostate and in response, Stefanos was clenching around him so tightly that Rafa saw stars.

He came with a groan, his body and hips twitching, while he emptied himself into the condom, his body shuddering with the aftershocks. His body fell down on top of Stefanos’ and after hearing Stefanos’ needy voice begging, he lazily reached around and brought the Greek off with his calloused left hand, just on the edge of rough. It made Stefanos whimper and thrash under him, but it was all worth it when his body finally stiffened up, cock twitching in Rafa’s hand and coming all over the sheets just a moment later.

They stayed like that for a few moments. Rafa’s cock still inside of him, his fingers still wrapped around Stefanos’ softening length. Rafa pressed his forehead against Stefanos’ sweaty back and tried to catch his breath. After a few seconds that could have easily stretched into long minutes, Rafa finally pulled away, throwing the condom away and then doing something that he had been fearing the most – having to face Stefanos.

The Greek’s eyes showed something like vulnerability, just like before when he first walked into the room, but his facial features were relaxed, and he seemed completely content lying on the bed beside Rafa, already getting a little bit sleepy. Rafa didn’t have the heart to throw him out, so he lay down beside him and pulled a duvet up to cover them. They were still sweaty, and the sheet was covered in come, but they would deal with that later.

“Will this happen more often then?” Stefanos asked quietly after seconds of long silence.

“I don’t know,” Rafa admitted, not knowing what else to say. He didn’t want to make any promises he couldn’t keep.

“Do you at least know when we will meet again?” he asked. His voice was soft, but it held an undertone that Rafa recognised as Stefanos becoming upset. He sighed, stroked his hand over the Greek’s hair and his cheeks.

“When you win a final against me.”

FIN

**Author's Note:**

> Might give it a prologue - the night in Barcelona and perhaps see if Rafa can figure this out in the future.


End file.
